Matthew 7:7-11
“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!
The Proverbial Serpent
One time not too long ago I was sitting in my bed reading something. One member of my family came in, just to say "hi." A nice thing for a brother to do, right? The problem was, I was pretty thirsty at the time, but just hadn't gotten up to get some water because I was also quite comfortable. So instead of saying, "Hi, nice to see you, how are you doing?" I said, "Hi, can you get me some water?" My brother left without saying anything, so I thought maybe he wouldn't get it for me. But about 5 minutes later, he came back with a glass of ice water. "Thank you so much!" I said, and he just smiled. I took a big sip of the cold water. And then I realized the truth--I had asked for a fish, and been given a snake. What I was drinking wasn't ice water, but ice water plus Taco Bell medium sauce. Apparently my brother isn't my servant--how come nobody told me that in all these years?
You have probably been in this situation before, when you asked for something and were given something else. More likely than not, you have found yourself in this situation not with a person, but with God. Finding that your prayers have not been answered just as you prayed them can be as shocking as that first gulp of Rylie's taco cocktail. I asked God to bless me, and look at this. He didn't come through after all.
These verses from Matthew 7 have challenged me greatly. The more I think about them, the more I become convinced that the way I ask, and the way I expect to be answered, don't line up with God's will. So when I think I've been given a serpent, chances are the problem was with me all along.
A Truly Good Gift
First of all, I need to realize how absolutely certain it is that God will bless me with wonderful gifts. These verses in Matthew, and many others (i.e., Eph. 1:3, Phil. 2, James 1:17, 1 Pet. 1:4, 2 Pet. 1:3) tell us that God wants to and does give us good gifts.
Scripture is clear about what God sees as a good gift. Just look in the Bible for the things that God describes as good or perfect. Here are just a few:
-Fruitfulness (Luke 6:43)
-The news of the Gospel (Luke 3: 18)
-Obedience (Romans 2:10)
-Everything God does in the life of a believer (Romans 8:28)
-Christlikeness (Romans 8:29)
-God's will (Romans 12:2)
God's word also describes plenty of non-spiritual blessings as good; for example: food, wine, money, singleness, and marriage. But there is one good gift that rises far above the rest. Jesus said, "No one is good except God alone (Mark 10:18)." The best gift that God can give anyone is Himself!
I need to have a strong confidence that God will bless me with Himself anytime I ask!
No More Apathy
This begs the question, why don't I ask more?
I don't know if you are like me in this, but when I find myself doing poorly spiritually, I'll often just feel discouraged and leave it at that. I find I'm constantly confessing sin, but with little change. My quiet times are weak. My relationships with others are strained, stressful, or just shallow. I'm not finding joy in my spiritual walk, so I start looking for happiness in entertainment, comfort, and company. I don't find happiness, so I get even more down. And in all my searching for a cure, I neglect the one solution that God has promised will work.
Everything I am missing out on in my spiritual walk is something that God promises to give me, if I'll just ask for it!
As Christians we can and should be 100% confident that God will give us these good gifts when we ask. But it can be so easy to forget that chooses to base much of His giving on the condition of our asking. I think that this is why oftentimes we slip into spiritual dry spots. When we stop asking, we stop receiving. Does God have to wait for our permission or request before He can bless us? Of course not! And He often doesn't. But His word also makes it clear that sometimes it is His will to bless us specially and extraordinarily when we ask for a good gift.
Do you think that if you earnestly ask God to enliven your spiritual walk, show you amazing things about Himself, and give you a closer relationship with Him, He'll say no? There's no chance! God isn't asking you to get godly on your own. He isn't asking you to discover the secret formula for a perfect life. All He wants is for you to ask Him for His help.
Ask earnestly. Ask purposefully. Ask diligently. Ask over and over if you have to. Whatever you do, don't stop asking. Because He promises that He won't fail to give you the good and perfect gift of Himself.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
C.S. Lewis and Hope
C.S. Lewis is undoubtedly one of the most famous and influential Christian authors of all time. I just finished reading his "Mere Christianity" last month. This book is philosophically brilliant, clear, and persuasive. It also contains several things that many Christians, myself included, don't agree with.
But this blog post isn't to talk about problems with C.S. Lewis. I want to talk about the good influence his work has had on me, and it's important role in my life.
When I was little, the Voyage of the Dawn Treader was one of my favorite books. I read the whole Narnia series lots of times, but something about Voyage fascinated me more than the others. Never mind that for years I thought it was pronounced "Dawn Tree-der" (I was better at reading than speaking, apparently), and I alternated thinking C.S. Lewis was a man or a woman (thanks to those ambiguous initials). But though I wasn't able to understand Lewis' work as well as an adult could, I think I understood it as he intended--in the way only a child could.
I held my breath as Lucy explored mysterious hallways in the magician's house. I felt a dawning sense of horror when a man from the land where dreams come true told its seekers, "Fools! Do you hear what I say? This is where dreams -dreams, do you understand, come to life, come real." I remembered with a shudder "dreams I had had - dreams that made me afraid of going to sleep again."
But there was more than just fear and suspense. What drew me most to his books was the sense of wonder that I felt every time I opened one up. And it wasn't just because the stories took place in some magical world. Fantasy stories are well and good, but there was something else. Every book was shot through with hope from cover to cover.
From the expectant Narnians in the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe waiting for their kings and queens, to the father in The Horse and His Boy waiting for his lost son to come home, to the long awaited end of all days in The Last Battle, the world of Narnia was a world of hope.
Treader, more than any of the others, captured my imagination in anticipation. As the title ship traveled farther and farther east, the sea became sweeter and more beautiful. Aslan's country was near, and I shared the excitement of the characters. When they finally got to the distant shore, the beauty of expectation made my eyes sting. Because even when I was little, I yearned for heaven. I had the desire that everyone who ever lives has felt--the desire for something more, something we don't even know. The ironic thing is, when I first read the book, I didn't realize that "I was made for another world." What I did realize was that heaven was beautiful, and it was infinite. I loved trying to push to the ends of infinity with my mind, and I loved coming up short every time. And I loved reading about the far country in C.S. Lewis' books. Not because I wished I could live in an alternate reality, but because they gave me a small taste of the mysterious, mind-blowing, wonderful beauty of heaven.
As I wrapped up Mere Christianity this week, I again caught a glimpse of this hope. Just as with Treader, the best part was the end. This hope, though, is something both deeper and more understandable for me. Here, Lewis describes the hope of the "new self"--of the coming reality of losing this twisted, sin-marred personality and embracing my new, perfect identity in Christ.
I am indebted to C.S. Lewis for showing me a little glimpse of the future I look forward to. From the time I was little, his writing has whetted my appetite for God and for the world to come.
But this blog post isn't to talk about problems with C.S. Lewis. I want to talk about the good influence his work has had on me, and it's important role in my life.
When I was little, the Voyage of the Dawn Treader was one of my favorite books. I read the whole Narnia series lots of times, but something about Voyage fascinated me more than the others. Never mind that for years I thought it was pronounced "Dawn Tree-der" (I was better at reading than speaking, apparently), and I alternated thinking C.S. Lewis was a man or a woman (thanks to those ambiguous initials). But though I wasn't able to understand Lewis' work as well as an adult could, I think I understood it as he intended--in the way only a child could.
I held my breath as Lucy explored mysterious hallways in the magician's house. I felt a dawning sense of horror when a man from the land where dreams come true told its seekers, "Fools! Do you hear what I say? This is where dreams -dreams, do you understand, come to life, come real." I remembered with a shudder "dreams I had had - dreams that made me afraid of going to sleep again."
But there was more than just fear and suspense. What drew me most to his books was the sense of wonder that I felt every time I opened one up. And it wasn't just because the stories took place in some magical world. Fantasy stories are well and good, but there was something else. Every book was shot through with hope from cover to cover.
From the expectant Narnians in the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe waiting for their kings and queens, to the father in The Horse and His Boy waiting for his lost son to come home, to the long awaited end of all days in The Last Battle, the world of Narnia was a world of hope.
Treader, more than any of the others, captured my imagination in anticipation. As the title ship traveled farther and farther east, the sea became sweeter and more beautiful. Aslan's country was near, and I shared the excitement of the characters. When they finally got to the distant shore, the beauty of expectation made my eyes sting. Because even when I was little, I yearned for heaven. I had the desire that everyone who ever lives has felt--the desire for something more, something we don't even know. The ironic thing is, when I first read the book, I didn't realize that "I was made for another world." What I did realize was that heaven was beautiful, and it was infinite. I loved trying to push to the ends of infinity with my mind, and I loved coming up short every time. And I loved reading about the far country in C.S. Lewis' books. Not because I wished I could live in an alternate reality, but because they gave me a small taste of the mysterious, mind-blowing, wonderful beauty of heaven.
As I wrapped up Mere Christianity this week, I again caught a glimpse of this hope. Just as with Treader, the best part was the end. This hope, though, is something both deeper and more understandable for me. Here, Lewis describes the hope of the "new self"--of the coming reality of losing this twisted, sin-marred personality and embracing my new, perfect identity in Christ.
I am indebted to C.S. Lewis for showing me a little glimpse of the future I look forward to. From the time I was little, his writing has whetted my appetite for God and for the world to come.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Even Now
The Lord utters His voice
before His army,
for His camp is exceedingly great;
He who executes His word is powerful.
For the day of the LORD is great and very awesome;
who can endure it?
--Joel 2:10-11
These verses come after one of the passages in the Bible that genuinely frightens me. "The day of the LORD" that is talked about here is a day when a fiery army scales the wall of the city and creeps into the house windows like thieves. "Before them people are in anguish; all faces grow pale." If the thought of God's judgement doesn't make us go pale, it's only because we aren't full aware of what that means.
I realize that I am mostly clueless when it comes to God's future plans. When I read this chapter, God surprised me again. After a harrowing description of coming judgement, God's word takes a turn.
"Yet even now," declares the LORD,
"return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
and rend your hearts and not your garments."
Return to the LORD your God,
for He is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love;
and He relents over disaster.
--Joel 2:12-13
Yes, God's anger is terrifying. And yes, God is gracious, merciful, and slow to anger. While God is still calling from the pages of the Bible, "repent, return with all your heart," shouldn't we be calling out the same thing? We all know people who are destined for destruction because of their rejection of God. But He hasn't destroyed them yet, has He?
"Even now, return to me."
Because of the terror of God's wrath and His unashamedly shocking mercy, we need to be bold in sharing Him.
Read Joel 2 in it's entirety for an amazing depiction of God's wrath and mercy together.
before His army,
for His camp is exceedingly great;
He who executes His word is powerful.
For the day of the LORD is great and very awesome;
who can endure it?
--Joel 2:10-11
These verses come after one of the passages in the Bible that genuinely frightens me. "The day of the LORD" that is talked about here is a day when a fiery army scales the wall of the city and creeps into the house windows like thieves. "Before them people are in anguish; all faces grow pale." If the thought of God's judgement doesn't make us go pale, it's only because we aren't full aware of what that means.
I realize that I am mostly clueless when it comes to God's future plans. When I read this chapter, God surprised me again. After a harrowing description of coming judgement, God's word takes a turn.
"Yet even now," declares the LORD,
"return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
and rend your hearts and not your garments."
Return to the LORD your God,
for He is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love;
and He relents over disaster.
--Joel 2:12-13
Yes, God's anger is terrifying. And yes, God is gracious, merciful, and slow to anger. While God is still calling from the pages of the Bible, "repent, return with all your heart," shouldn't we be calling out the same thing? We all know people who are destined for destruction because of their rejection of God. But He hasn't destroyed them yet, has He?
"Even now, return to me."
Because of the terror of God's wrath and His unashamedly shocking mercy, we need to be bold in sharing Him.
Read Joel 2 in it's entirety for an amazing depiction of God's wrath and mercy together.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Still Childish
A (very) humbling thought from John Owen's The Mortification of Sin:
Notwithstanding all our confidence of high attainments, all our notions of God are but childish in respect of his infinite perfections. We, for the most part, but lisp and babble, and say we know not what, in our most accurate (as we think) conceptions and notions of God. We may love, honor, believe and obey our Father; and therewith He accepts our childish thoughts, for they are but childish. We see but His back parts; we know but little of Him.
We may suppose that we have attained here great knowledge, clear and high thoughts of God; but alas! when He shall bring us into His presence, we shall cry out, we never knew Him as He is; the thousandth part of His glory, and perfection, and blessedness, never entered into our hearts.
Notwithstanding all our confidence of high attainments, all our notions of God are but childish in respect of his infinite perfections. We, for the most part, but lisp and babble, and say we know not what, in our most accurate (as we think) conceptions and notions of God. We may love, honor, believe and obey our Father; and therewith He accepts our childish thoughts, for they are but childish. We see but His back parts; we know but little of Him.
We may suppose that we have attained here great knowledge, clear and high thoughts of God; but alas! when He shall bring us into His presence, we shall cry out, we never knew Him as He is; the thousandth part of His glory, and perfection, and blessedness, never entered into our hearts.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Obedience: Round Two
Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the shore; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, "Children, do you have any fish?" They answered him, "No." He said to them, "Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some." So thy cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in, because of the quantity of fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved therefore said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his outer garment, for he was stripped for work, and threw himself into the sea.
--John 21:4-8
I want to be like the Peter that is depicted here. I already am like the Peter shown just a couple of chapters earlier--the Peter who denied Jesus. I may not have used words to say, "I don't know Him," but I have denied that He is everything to me every time that I have sinned against him. How quick I am to say that Jesus is my life. And how dreadfully quick I am afterwards to act as though He is nothing to me.
How great is our Savior's forgiveness. For we are not destroyed when we sin against him. Instead, we are given another day, another chance to throw ourselves into the sea after Him. Another opportunity to sacrifice. Another situation where we can obey in a big way.
When you feel the pangs of failure, don't give up hope of future success. Our God is faithful to let us do things for him, even great things, regardless of our past shortcomings. The man who forsook Jesus when He was at death's door would later be the man to give his own life for the sake of his Savior.
Keep your eyes open for the second chance.
--John 21:4-8
I want to be like the Peter that is depicted here. I already am like the Peter shown just a couple of chapters earlier--the Peter who denied Jesus. I may not have used words to say, "I don't know Him," but I have denied that He is everything to me every time that I have sinned against him. How quick I am to say that Jesus is my life. And how dreadfully quick I am afterwards to act as though He is nothing to me.
How great is our Savior's forgiveness. For we are not destroyed when we sin against him. Instead, we are given another day, another chance to throw ourselves into the sea after Him. Another opportunity to sacrifice. Another situation where we can obey in a big way.
When you feel the pangs of failure, don't give up hope of future success. Our God is faithful to let us do things for him, even great things, regardless of our past shortcomings. The man who forsook Jesus when He was at death's door would later be the man to give his own life for the sake of his Savior.
Keep your eyes open for the second chance.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
First Breath
Jesus' resurrection is a source of endless fascination to me. My mind can't fully grasp it, but loves to feel out the idea and try to picture it. I simply can't fathom the miracle of God that happened that day.
Try to picture the scene. Picture the hands taking Jesus off the cross. Picture the fearful pharisee secretly arranging with Pilate to take care of the body. Picture those lifeless arms and legs being wrapped up in cloth like a mummy, with seventy-five pounds of expensive spices stuffed in. The body that had been alive just hours before was laid to rest in a tomb and sealed off. It was a customary burial, to honor the body and allow it to decompose in peace out of sight and smell of anyone who survived Him.
Now picture what it was like in that tomb. Just imagine you could see inside. For three days, absolute stillness. Not a whisper of air, not a flicker of light, not a sound. And then--motion.
The mouth takes in air. Dead lungs fill with oxygen. Blood once again flows through the veins. The man sits up, takes off his face cloth and folds it off to the side. This is no longer a dead body; this is the living God.
Jesus' resurrection changed everything.
When the first person saw Him alive, Jesus said to her, "Go to my brothers and say to them, "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God." Brothers. Father. Jesus welcomed us into His family by becoming a part of ours. The last barrier between Him and us was broken when He became like us in death. His Father is our Father! Even more amazing, our God is His God.
Because He became like us in death, reconciling us to the Father, we who are in Christ now become like Him in a new kind of death. A death like His death. Temporary.
You will die someday. The last gasp of air will escape your lips and will not be replaced by another. Your heart will stop pumping blood. Your body will be moved and handled and redressed and, probably, put in a coffin, as is the custom. And the lid will be closed and a hole will be dug and dirt will be sprinkled over you. Then shoveled and dumped and smoothed out over the top, and marked with a stone.
But there will be no three days waiting for you, friend. There will be no three days of dark stillness. For your last breath will be followed by your first. Heaven will surround you, fill you. Your life will begin just as soon as it ends.
And there, in heaven, we will see our Savior. We will see the scars, the wounds, the lips that breathed the same oxygen we did. We will behold our brother, our God. And forever we will live with Him.
Try to picture the scene. Picture the hands taking Jesus off the cross. Picture the fearful pharisee secretly arranging with Pilate to take care of the body. Picture those lifeless arms and legs being wrapped up in cloth like a mummy, with seventy-five pounds of expensive spices stuffed in. The body that had been alive just hours before was laid to rest in a tomb and sealed off. It was a customary burial, to honor the body and allow it to decompose in peace out of sight and smell of anyone who survived Him.
Now picture what it was like in that tomb. Just imagine you could see inside. For three days, absolute stillness. Not a whisper of air, not a flicker of light, not a sound. And then--motion.
The mouth takes in air. Dead lungs fill with oxygen. Blood once again flows through the veins. The man sits up, takes off his face cloth and folds it off to the side. This is no longer a dead body; this is the living God.
Jesus' resurrection changed everything.
When the first person saw Him alive, Jesus said to her, "Go to my brothers and say to them, "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God." Brothers. Father. Jesus welcomed us into His family by becoming a part of ours. The last barrier between Him and us was broken when He became like us in death. His Father is our Father! Even more amazing, our God is His God.
Because He became like us in death, reconciling us to the Father, we who are in Christ now become like Him in a new kind of death. A death like His death. Temporary.
You will die someday. The last gasp of air will escape your lips and will not be replaced by another. Your heart will stop pumping blood. Your body will be moved and handled and redressed and, probably, put in a coffin, as is the custom. And the lid will be closed and a hole will be dug and dirt will be sprinkled over you. Then shoveled and dumped and smoothed out over the top, and marked with a stone.
But there will be no three days waiting for you, friend. There will be no three days of dark stillness. For your last breath will be followed by your first. Heaven will surround you, fill you. Your life will begin just as soon as it ends.
And there, in heaven, we will see our Savior. We will see the scars, the wounds, the lips that breathed the same oxygen we did. We will behold our brother, our God. And forever we will live with Him.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Bigger Than My Life
Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens,
Your faithfulness to the clouds.
--Psalm 36:5
Here's a thought. A little thought, but a comforting one. God's love extends to the edge of the universe. I extend to 5 feet and 6 inches off the ground. Do you think there's enough room for me in there?
Sometimes the most important things in life are the ones you can't see. I can't see God's love for me like I can see a storm or or a shadow or the inside of my eyelids--but it is far, far bigger than any of those things.
Sometimes Jesus' word literally is all I have to look to. But that isn't so bad. He says He loves me. He says He loves me with a love that is bigger than all the world. I am more than happy to just go by that.
Your faithfulness to the clouds.
--Psalm 36:5
Here's a thought. A little thought, but a comforting one. God's love extends to the edge of the universe. I extend to 5 feet and 6 inches off the ground. Do you think there's enough room for me in there?
Sometimes the most important things in life are the ones you can't see. I can't see God's love for me like I can see a storm or or a shadow or the inside of my eyelids--but it is far, far bigger than any of those things.
Sometimes Jesus' word literally is all I have to look to. But that isn't so bad. He says He loves me. He says He loves me with a love that is bigger than all the world. I am more than happy to just go by that.
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